I’m Sad Today and That’s Fine

I’m sad. I wasn’t this morning. I won’t be soon enough. I’m sad right now.

I can’t tell you how much being able to recognize that and acknowledge it has changed my life.

When I was younger I would process a change of mood perhaps as often as once a day. Back then I might not even notice the presence of my feelings for a few hours after waking. That was true whether happy or sad or angry or whatever. I say whatever because I’m sure there are more than 3 moods. In general though it was one of these. For a long time there were just two since ‘sad’ would morph immediately into angry. I don’t know why. I guess it had something to do with a limited emotional palate and an abundance of youthful testosterone.

I once heard a person who had been abused talk about their decision to forgive the abuser that took so much from them. Initially I didn’t understand how they could ever truly forgive them. I thought perhaps they were still reeling from the abuse and reacting out of fear. But in their explanation I learned about what they were really doing when they chose to forgive. How it was actually an act of self preservation.

‘Forgiving my abuser was very hard. I didn’t do it for a long time. Instead I held on to that anger and felt like it was my armor. I somehow thought that carrying and caring for my anger, keeping it alive, was what kept me safe. But it didn’t. He didn’t abuse me again. He didn’t have to. Carrying around that much anger and bile did all the damage he couldn’t do. In time I had to forgive him to let go. Think of it like this, anger is a poison pill. For me, holding on to my anger was like swallowing poison in hopes that it would make someone else die. But of course it doesn’t work that way. The poison was in me. It was killing me.’

The second I heard that my whole perspective shifted.

I have not had to confront abuse, thankfully, but I could see myself holding on to anger. Compiling resentments and scorn and holding them close in order to keep them fed. In the years I’ve spent thinking about this piece of wisdom I’ve come to relish the opportunities I have to recognize and identify my feelings. My anger was my poison pill. Still is.

It may sound silly, but to me feelings were an outside force somehow. That was how I perceived them and I’d guess I’m not the only man who has felt this way. My feelings felt like a threat to my stability, best denied or ignored. At least the negative ones. But that’s not how it works. I can’t deny my feelings away and the more I may try to do so the more I am at their service, providing them only enough oxygen to live but never enough to recover and heal. In that kind of cycle joy feels more like a liability and I treated it that way.

So today for some reason I started to feel sad. I recognized it, I acknowledged it, I’m feeling it and soon I’ll be moving on.

Sometimes emotional maturity is as simple as that. As simple as recognizing that which is evident and allowing space and time to do their work so I am not controlled by that which I struggle against and try to wrestle into submission.

Instead I just say I am sad today and I am thankful that I recognized it. Being sad now does not mean I’ll be sad tomorrow and it doesn’t mean I won’t be. It just means I’m sad. It’s a feeling and feelings change. Sometimes I’ll discover there was a reason I felt that way and other times I’ll discover there was no reason other than being human.

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Author: joejmedler

Joe Medler lives in New Jersey with his wife, who is universally understood to be far too good for him, and his two young sons, who are far too smart for him. His work has been featured on MamaLode, The Original Bunker Punks and Sammiches and Psych Meds. You can find more of his work at https://developingdad.com/ and follow him on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/developingdad
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3 thoughts on “I’m Sad Today and That’s Fine”

One of my life’s all time closest friends was a marvel. He was a tormented soul, systematically destroying himself until his final demise. He was miraculous on many levels, but one thing about him that I often think of: his ability to feel. I’ve met few people who simply embraced what they feel…no apologies…no judgments. They open themselves to pain and suffering, as well as the full breadth of joy because the capacity to feel is a gift. He was never religious, not really. We never discussed it, but I’m pretty sure he didn’t believe in God. He believed in feeling alive, even if his demons ultimately destroyed him. But, I think of his strength and courage. I see what he added to the world. I think of the man he was, and I’ve made more of an effort to simply feel…everything. Feeling is a risk. It’s terrifying. But, I’ve stopped feeling shame most of the time. The intensity at times, especially with the misery the past year, is overwhelming. I can say now, however, that as low as I’ve been…as heartbroken and vulnerable to breaking completely; I haven’t. I’ve felt more alive and connected and present in every possible capacity, even when I thought I couldn’t take anymore. I’ve felt stronger, which is weird when I always considered emotions a weakness; not anymore. And, then I grieve the time I wasted feeling numb, and the consequences that entailed.

This is a really great piece. You describe this challenge so well. I see this in the boys and men I love and want to help, but I’m not sure I can… I can just keep trying to live into this wisdom myself. Thanks for the writing.